Outline For

I just closed a deal worth 50 million. The room did its job, so I went to the reception to check out, and I got myself a bottle of water worth 2 dollars. That very same day, I got an email from the company accusing me of misusing company funds. They canceled three months' worth of KPI from my records and fined me 5,000 dollars. I ignored that, thinking that it was a mistake some new guy in finance made. When I went to work the next day, my access card was denied. It was canceled. I couldn't even get into the building. Furious, I called my CEO fiance, but his secretary took the call instead. "How many times do I have to tell you to follow the rules when it comes to money? Did you tell finance about that bottle of water? No? Then that's against the rules! Everyone else follows the rules, so why can't you? You're a veteran!" The CEO chimed in, "Christina, you're a veteran of the company. You must be an example. You're not allowed back to work until you finish your 8000-word reflection and read it out loud at the all-employee meeting!" They tossed the phone aside, and a moment later, moans of delight and passion traveled through the air. Stone-faced, I hung up and called our competitor's CEO. "I've got a 50-million-dollar deal and a sales manager who just got fired for you. Are you taking that deal?"

On the eve of my engagement banquet, news broke that my fiancé had fathered a child with his mistress, and it spread like wildfire. Before I could confront him, Jayden Ford brushed it off casually. "It was just an accident. Focus on organizing the engagement banquet first. Besides, your dad’s in the late stages of stomach cancer. Calling off the engagement now won’t do either family any good." That night, he skipped the banquet but posted a photo of a swaddled newborn on social media. When I video-called him, he was bottle-feeding the baby. "I’ve been busy taking care of the kid. You know how it is. Our family lineage has always been sparse and dwindling, and the child takes priority." He wiped milk from the baby’s mouth. "But don’t worry. Once he’s a month old, I’ll send him to the overseas. Just show up on holidays and pretend to be his mom. The title of Mrs. Ford will always be yours." I stared at the matching diamond ring on his finger and couldn’t help but laugh. "Jayden, this engagement is off." He scoffed, "You're really throwing a tantrum over something like this? Don’t be so childish." I hung up on him and called his father—Charles Ford—directly. "I heard you’re looking for a new wife? Why not consider me?" I ran a hand over my belly and smiled. "After all, I’ve got a naturally fertile body. I can give you as many sons as you want." So much for being the sole heir. I’ll make sure he has plenty of brothers to keep him company.

“Camille, I’ll love you forever!” Jameson let out a low, agonized growl. Just as he was about to climax, his phone suddenly began to buzz. He ignored it, of course. Now was hardly the time. However, his phone lit up again. The moment he saw the text on the screen, his body froze. Camille heard him answer the call. “Hello?” In the deep silence of the night, the voice on the phone cut through the stillness, clear and unmistakable. “Jameson, did you know that Sylvia—” Jameson switched languages and cut in with a sharp command, “Keep it down. It's not a good time.” The other person switched languages too, though he was still loud. “The hospital results came in. Sylvia is in the final stages of cancer. She only has a month left! Her last wish is to become your wife. Can you grant her that before she passes?” Jameson’s expression changed immediately. “What?! Wait for me!” He ended the call and turned to Camille. “Camille, something urgent came up. I need to step out for a bit. Be good and stay home. I’ll be back after you’ve had some sleep.” Before she could respond, he rose to wash up, changed his clothes, and left without looking back. Moments later, her phone buzzed. Sylvia: [Camille, you lost. I told you—Jameson has always been mine.] Right above it was a message from three days ago: [If I tell him I have cancer, do you think Jameson will leave you and come to me? I bet he will.] Camille’s gaze slowly shifted from her phone screen to the open bedroom door. What Jameson did not know was that she had already picked up a new language. She understood every word of that call. After a long moment, a faint, bitter smile appeared on her face. “Yeah, I lost...”

My wife, Christine Leigh, forced me to the brink of death all for her first love, Henry Carson. To give him a liver transplant, she sent me to the surgery table. I told her I had cancer and that the doctors had advised against the surgery. She just looked at me with an undisguised contempt, "Jason Lowe, stop with your petty tricks. Don't forget, you owe our family your life!" I lowered my head and smiled bitterly. I never left the surgery table.

My five years of marriage to Elliot Kline turned out to be a cruel joke. "For tomorrow's monthly report meeting, I'd like Yvette to present your branding plan," Elliot said, not looking up from his desk. I put down the files I was organizing, certain I had misheard. "What?" "Yvette just joined the company. She needs a chance to prove herself. Your plan is perfect for that." He lifted his head, his tone brooking no argument. "But that's my entry for the Veriania Creative Competition," I protested. "You win awards every year. What's the harm in letting her have it this time?" He shrugged, adding, "We need to nurture new talent." I stared at the man with whom I had shared a bed for five years. His face suddenly felt so unfamiliar to me. "Do you know how many sleepless nights I poured into that plan? And you're giving it to a new intern?" "Don't be so petty. It's just a plan. My decision is made." My fists clenched, anger surging through me.

Dylan Walker is one of New York city's richest businessmen. He has the reputation of being a ruthless businessman, and as hot as he is so is he arrogant, proud, and a full-time Casanova but not heartless though... His whole business carrier is at stake and the only thing that can save it is something he doesn't see himself doing. Getting married... Dylan turns to Lorraine, who isn't the regular woman he'll go for, she's beautiful and feisty with a voice men call 1-900 numbers to hear. Dylan offers her ten million dollars for a one-year contract. And there's nothing indecent about this proposal. The money will help with her family's bills. All Lorraine will need to do is keep her attraction to her new husband to herself and avoid his bed. But Dylan's toe-curling kisses and sexy charm prove too difficult for Lorraine to resist. It was a marriage contract that planned for everything...except falling in love.

Alexander Morrison doesn't love me, nor does he love our daughter. The only person he loves is his first love, Charlotte Clarke. To maintain his perfect image in Charlotte's eyes, he only allows our daughter to call him "Uncle Alex". This continues until Charlotte becomes pregnant and goes abroad to marry someone else. Alexander drinks himself into oblivion and finally decides to marry me. When he comes home, our daughter gives him 100 forgiveness coupons. I tell him that once those 100 coupons are used up, I'll take our daughter and leave him forever. He holds us both tightly in his arms, swearing he will never make us sad again. During the initial few years of our secret marriage, he indeed does exceptionally well, as not a single coupon is used. That is, until Charlotte returns to the country with her daughter. Every time he abandons me and our daughter for Charlotte and her child, I tear off one forgiveness coupon. Now, only three coupons remain.

A rich kid offers to pay anyone who'll be his companion to a ball ten thousand dollars. My roommate stops me from responding. "He's just a rich guy fishing for fun—he's using money to play around with women! Are you going to offer yourself to him for money? We can't be gold diggers!" My mother is sick, though. She needs my scholarship money to save her life. To my devastation, my roommate latches onto a school board member and takes away my scholarship. She even mocks me. "With your looks, you could've sold yourself for money. Here's a hundred bucks to compensate you." That's not all—an AI face-swapped picture of me are posted online. Countless people harass me because of them. My mother doesn't want to drag me down, so she takes her life. I break down and choose to jump off a building. When I open my eyes again, I'm taken back to the first day of the semester. The rich kid is looking for a female companion. I immediately say, "I'm the companion you've been looking for, sir!"

I, Mona Goldheart, decide to tell my mate, Edmund Ryker, about my pregnancy on my birthday. But Edmund, who never misses my birthday, misses it this time. The reason he cited was that he had to attend a very important meeting. I don't believe it. When I rush over to his company, I see him holding a birthday party for Amy Drumm, the Omega he brought back to our pack not long ago. Watching as the two of them act so intimately, I contacted Edmund through our mind-link. I ask, "Is the meeting going well?" Edmund holds Amy in his arms, laughing happily. But when he replies to me, his tone is flat, as if he really is attending a meeting. He says, "It's going well. When I finish, I'll come back and celebrate your birthday." I sneer and reply, "Turn around and take a look."

Three years ago, Lucas’ mother paid me ten million dollars to play his fated mate with the help of a potion. Lucas believed I was hopelessly in love with him. What he didn’t know was that I was nothing more than a hired actress. By day, I stood at his side during training. By night, he paraded a she-wolf through the mansion. He once sneered, “Don’t delude yourself into thinking the mate bond can change me.” I only smiled, silently counting my money. “Funny, because I never planned on giving you my heart, either.” On the day the potion wore off, I walked away with the fortune, while he spiraled into madness. Three years later, I returned victorious as the youngest S-class strategy consultant. There he was, on his knees, murmuring, “I was wrong.” Little did Lucas know that his arrogance, handed out like charity, had carried a hefty price tag of ten million. Now, even if he lost everything, it still wouldn’t be enough to buy my forgiveness.